


Wish Me Joy and Good Fortune

by Raja_Myna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Young Avengers
Genre: Dimension Travel, Hogwarts Fifth Year, More tags to be added, Multi, Post YA v2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:30:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raja_Myna/pseuds/Raja_Myna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One July morning a dark-haired young man is discovered on the shores of a lake in Scotland. A multiverse away, the Young Avengers are relentlessly searching for their missing teammate. The one bright spot in this mess? Well, if Dumbledore's lucky, he might not have to worry about the ministry placing one of their stooges as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Days Later

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a native English speaker and this text is largely unedited, so tread with caution. Currently, this story is a side project for me so do not expect scheduled updates. Also, the HP timeline is a bit of a mess, but I'll be keeping to it as much as I can.
> 
> That said, I'm looking forward to writing this thing and I hope you'll enjoy it :)

It was three days after Albus had found the young man on the shores of the Lake that he brought the boy to headquarters. The first day the boy had been unconscious and unresponsive to any of the treatments Poppy had tried, to the point where she'd decided that it would be best to see if he would wake up on his own before trying anything more invasive. She'd had a point, and sure enough, the boy woke up on the following day.

The polite interrogation he'd given the young man had quite possibly been the most fascinating and terrifying discussion he'd ever held with anyone. At first he'd simply assumed that the boy was touched in the head, but he knew of the Muggles' theories of multiple universes, and the young man had given no indications of mental instability bar the fantastical tale he told. Having read several books about Sherlock Holmes, Albus had to agree with the Muggle detective; however impossible young William Kaplan's story seemed, it had to be true.

So now he stood outside number 12 Grimmauld Place, handing a piece of paper to the young witch (and wasn't that amusing, the differences in terminology across universes), who regarded him with amused wariness.

“I can feel the magic here,” said William. “It's something big, isn't it? If you hadn't told me I wouldn't have felt it. It's like it's trying to avoid being noticed.” He took the paper, but didn't read it immediately.

“Indeed it is,” answered Albus with a small chuckle. “Now read that note and you'll find out what it is.”

William raised a dubious eyebrow but unfolded the note. He gasped as he read the short message, undoubtedly feeling the magic taking hold. He looked up to the building and breathed a low “Wow.”

“Precisely,” said Albus. “Now shall we?” He gestured to the door.

“Yeah! Um, I mean, yes,” said William with a slight flush.

“Don't worry about being excited, William,” smiled Albus. “Now remember, no loud noises until we're past the entrance hall.”

“Don't worry.”

“I wasn't.” Albus led them into the dining room, where most of the Order had already gathered. “Good afternoon, everyone,” greeted Albus.

“Professor Dumbledore!” exclaimed Molly, followed by several “Hello”s and “Professor”s from the rest of the crew. “You're early.”

“I thought it best to be early so we could get introductions over with before anything else.” And just like that all eyes were suddenly on young William rather than on Albus himself. To William's credit, he just smiled at them.

“Hi. I'm William Kaplan, call me Billy,” said he. The Order members rather stumbled over each other to introduce themselves, with the rather notable exception of Severus. And Mundungus, though that was probably because the man was snoring beside his glass.

“Doesn't he look a bit young?” whispered Molly to her husband, and Albus smiled. So motherly, and so concerned about others, she was such a sweet woman. Arthur whispered back to her:

“I doubt Dumbledore would've brought him if he were underage.” Molly looked somewhat pacified by that, and soon the rush calmed. Albus looked over the gathered people. Only one was missing.

“Where's Sirius?” asked he.

Molly was quick to answer. “He's up feeding that hippogriff, he ought to be down any moment now.” She wrung her hands. “At least he should be.”

“Well, that's fine,” responded Albus. “We can wait then.”

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

It was three days after Billy had disappeared that Tommy admitted to himself that he was worried. It wasn't like his sort-of little brother to disappear without warning and definitely not without Teddy (together with Teddy was a different story, but if they were going to be unreachable for long enough that it would be noticed, they usually left a message). The team – or rather the parts of the team they'd been able to get a hold off – had searched _everywhere_ and Teddy had been beside himself with worry the whole time. Poor guy.

Tommy on the other hand had been quite happy to not worry at all. That he did so now… well, that was clearly Teddy's fault. All of it, his worry was contagious. That was it.

Right now, Tommy was running through the French Alps, aiming to pass through Nice for a five-minute-vacation before continuing his search. But really, he was starting to doubt that he would ever find Billy just by running around. After all, running around really fast hadn't done jack when they'd searched for the Scarlet Witch–

Tommy skidded to a halt inches before he would've slammed into a cliff side. He drove a fist into the rock and turned on his heel, vacation plans forgotten. He took off in a different direction, only one thought on his mind.

When he got to Latveria he better not find even a hint that Doom had anything at all to do with Billy's disappearance. For the man's own sake.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

It was three days after waking to an empty bed that Teddy heard back from Doctor Strange. The letter, which had appeared right in front of Teddy while he'd been eating lunch, was long, flowery and basically amounted to _silly boy, I have better things to do_ _right now_ _, don't bother me_ , or at least that was what Teddy got from it. It didn't exactly do wonders for his mood.

Three days of frenetically searching for Billy had left Teddy nearly sick with worry, but Strange's letter had delivered that push that allowed worry to turn into anger. Grateful for his current surroundings, Teddy proceeded to take that anger out on the vast number of trees around him.

It was lucky that Kate's call  came first after  he'd channeled the majority of his rage into creating a new clearing in the forest. He probably would've risked crushing the phone before that.

“ _Teddy?_ ”

“Yeah, Kate?”

There was a pause before  Kate continued, more carefully this time. “ _Teddy? Something happen?_ ”

Of course she'd heard something in his voice. She was  _Kate_ . “Strange got back to me.”

“ _No good news I take it? What did he say?_ ”

“Buzz off.”

“ _...what._ ”

“In much nicer words, I'll give, but that's basically what I got from his letter.”

Teddy could practically see Kate biting back a curse.  Then she let it out anyway. “ _Damn. That was one of our best chances._ ” She sighed. “ _I suppose it was too much to hope for that both of us would have good news._ ”

Hi s heart beat faster. “You have good news?” And okay, that was a pathetically hopeful tone.

“ _More like good and I don't really know. You should get back here._ ”

“I'm on my way.” He looked back at his half-eaten lunch, which had somehow survived his rage without a scratch. He wasn't that hungry anymore. “Good news first, please.”

“ _America finally called me. Something about bad reception is why she's not called before._ _She's not found anything, but considering the places she's been looking, I'm counting it as a good thing._ ”

Teddy breathed out slowly. “I suppose I can agree with that,” said he. “And the 'you don't know' news?”

“ _Tommy texted me. He's checking out a lead he hopes won't pan out._ ”

“Well that sounds ominous.” Kate didn't respond. “Kate? Kate, where is he?”

He was about to ask again when Kate breathed out, “ _Latveria._ ”

Teddy dropped his phone.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

It was three days after his arrival in this strange universe that Billy  first made it out of the bed in Hogwarts' hospital wing.  According to  Professor  “Call me Albus” Dumbledore, he'd spent the first day unconscious and a good part of the second day too tired to do more than have a glass of water. It had been first t oward the evening of the second day he'd been able to stay awake long enough  to have a conversation.

And what a conversation it had been.

A school of magic! That was probably the most amazing thing about this universe he'd landed in. It had in fact almost overshadowed the worry that came with the realization that he'd  l anded in a different universe  with no  way to get back. Okay, sure,  if he tried – really tried –  he could probably  force down whatever barrier there was between here and home,  but you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what a bad idea that was  ( t hough Billy kind of doubted that the average rocket scientist  _actually_ knew the devastation that could be caused by such an action).

Then Albus had explained the situation in this world, where a terrorist ran around, calling himself a Lord while the government turned a blind eye to him because they were afraid to lose their own power. So what if the guy had been dead for a while? He was back now so they should be doing something, not just sit around with their thumbs up their asses. But maybe Billy was a bit harsh on them, it seemed like dying and then coming back wasn't as usual in this universe.

Still, there was some heavy duty denial going on.

Albus had invited Billy to a meeting of people who were apparently trying to make a stand against this Lord Volde-whatsit, which Billy had been glad to accept,  even if it was more because he didn't know what else to do here other than try to find a way back home that didn't mean tearing down the dimensional barriers. The house the meeting was held in was concealed by some really interesting and intricate spell work. If Albus hadn't warned him about some 'special charms' on the building Billy wouldn't have noticed it at all. It was as though it had been made specifically to avoid attention.

T he people inside were all rather friendly, Billy supposed.  A bit odd, some of them, but on the whole they were nice.  He sat a bit awkwardly next to Remus Lupin, a worn-looking man probably in his late thirties or early forties,  and listened to the man making small-talk with a young woman with pink hair. Tonks, he thought it was.

The door opened and a man sauntered in. “The dog's in the house,” crowed the man with a grin. “I see everyone's here soo-o-ooh, new face!” He homed in on Billy. “I'm Sirius Black, owner of this delightful little house of horror.”

“Billy Kaplan,” responded Billy, “Nice to meet you.”

“Bloody hell, you're a yank!” exclaimed Sirius, jerking in surprise. Then he blushed. In the background, Molly Weasley – Wesley? – hissed “Language!”

Billy snorted. “I prefer American, but I suppose that's close enough.”

Sirius coughed in his fist. “Sorry,” muttered he.

“It's fine,” smiled Billy. Sirius sat down.

“Now that we're all here,” said Albus, “I would suggest that we get to business. Dedalus, I seem to recall you had something important...”

Billy did his best to follow the discussions, but there was so many new things – names, places, organizations – that he ended up lost before too long.  Still, he listened attentively  and, as he could've guessed, after  all  the serious subjects had been dealt with, his name entered the  conversation.

“So, Kaplan, was it? Why did you come here? What reason do you have to fight?” It was the man named Moody who spoke. 

T he questions had Billy pause.  Albus had wanted him to tell the truth, but he had said he would respect Billy's decision to keep it secret if it came to that. Honestly, Billy didn't want to trust blindly, but  he didn't have a good lie prepared. 

“Personal reasons.”

“Hmph.” Moody frowned, but seemed content with the answer. Albus inclined his head slightly, accepting Billy's choice. Then he stood up.

“If there was nothing else…?” prompted he. A general _no_ chorused over the table.  Billy bit down on a _“_ _y_ _ou promised me magic books”_ because that would just be rude. And childish.  Albus had promised though and he still wanted to get his hands on those books. “Then I'll have to take my leave,” continued Albus. “Sirius, would you happen to have a room for William? At least for a few months?”

Sirius bit his lip. “Might have to clean  'em  up a bit, but I've  still  got a few.”

“Great! William, I hope you'll think on my offer. I'm sure Sirius will be happy to show you the library after you've got a room. Some books may be cursed, so look out.”

“I'll have an answer by next week,” smiled Billy, “and I think I can handle some books.”

“Still, some of those curses are very obscure. Anything you're unsure of would probably be best left alone.”

Albus left  and several people followed in his wake.  Across from Billy, Sirius stood up.

“C'mon kid, let's find you a room.”

“Sure.” Billy followed Sirius out the door and up the stairs. There stood a number of children, the eldest of them probably only about a year or so younger than Billy. All but one had red hair and they all looked at Sirius as though he held the answers to the universe. 

“You gonna tell us anything?”

“We didn't hear a word.”

“Who're _you_?”

The last was directed to Billy.  It was  the  red-h aired girl who asked.  The other red-heads (her brothers,  Billy guessed )  threw him a look.

“Billy Kaplan,” said Billy, feeling a bit repetitive with how much he'd already introduced himself. “You live here?”

“Not usually, but yes. Ginny Weasley.”

B illy leaned over the railing a little awkwardly, shaking her hand. Sirius seemed to get the hint and moved away from the top of the stairs, letting Billy come up. The other kids introduced themselves as well. Ron, George and Fred were  indeed Ginny's brothers while Hermione Granger was a friend.  They seemed set to interrogate Billy but Sirius put a quick stop to that by insisting to show Billy to a room. 

The room itself was nothing to boast about. It was messy, dusty and probably not lived in for at least a decade. Billy declined the offer of cleaning-aid; he'd have it fixed in moments so bothering other people wasn't a priority. Sirius still insisted to “get rid of some of the dust at least”, with a wave of a wand and a muttered “Scorugify”. Billy tried not to stare too much at the demonstration of this dimension's magic. Sirius didn't notice, so he counted it as a success.

Sirius left the room, presumably to speak with the kids. Billy waited for half a minute before he murmured a spell and the room shifted to his desires. He breathed out slowly and stumbled over to the bed. Finally alone again, the reality of his situation dawned upon him with renewed severity and he collapsed on the bed in exhausted resignation.  He hugged the pillow close and shut his eyes, again whispering the spell that had not worked the night before.

“IwanttobehomeIwanttobehomeIwanttobehome...”

 


	2. The Calm Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns a bit about the newest guest at Headquarters while Billy's getting nowhere with his search for a way home. Elsewhere, Kate's inches away from tearing her hair out and Doctor Strange finds something that he Does Not Like.

The ink-drenched tip of the quill hovered above the parchment. Hermione hesitated another moment before putting it back into the ink well. She couldn't focus enough to write. Harry's latest letter had all but pleaded for information and it tore her to pieces trying to figure out what she could give him that would not defy Professor Dumbledore's order to not to tell Harry anything.

In the end, she reluctantly settled for another letter filled with empty platitudes. Harry would be upset with her, but she hoped he'd understand. Hopefully he wouldn't do anything too stupid before they managed to convince Dumbledore to bring him here.

The finished letter was short, the over-all tone was dismissive and the temptation to finish with “I'm sorry” was great. Still, Mrs. Weasley was calling up the stairs, claiming dinner was ready so Hermione rolled up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig, who took it with a reprimanding look. Hermione spoke the “Sorry” she wanted to write and opened the window for the owl to leave. The sheer amount of disapproval the owl radiated as she left lingered as a bitter taste in Hermione's mouth.

She still held her head high as she walked downstairs. The Weasleys were already sitting down at the table when she got there. Sirius was helping Mrs. Weasley carry in the food from the kitchen. The young man from the stairs, Billy, was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione was obviously not the only one to note his absence, as Mrs. Weasley threw a glance around the room.

“Did any of you see Billy?” asked she. Hermione shook her head, an action echoed by the rest of the room.

“I can go see where he is,” volunteered Sirius.

“See where who is?” came a voice from behind Hermione. She whipped around and found herself facing Billy.

“You actually,” said Sirius. “Dunno if you heard, but dinner's served.”

“Yeah, I heard. I was just resting a bit.”

Something in that statement rang false but Hermione couldn't tell what. Had he been sleeping and didn't want Mrs. Weasley to feel bad about waking him? “Jetlag?”

Billy started. “What? Um, how did you figure?”

“Your accent, and just a guess. If you stay in one place for any significant amount of time, you usually adopt a few characteristics of that accent. You don't have any of the common markers that signify a long stay anywhere in Britain and wizard travel makes for worse jetlag than muggle travel in some cases. It's just the most reasonable excuse I could come up with on short notice. Give me a few moments and I could have a few other theories.”

“Um.” Billy blinked. “Wow.”

Ron snorted. “She's always like this.”

“Heh,” chuckled Billy. “You're right, actually. I've been here for three days now though, so I'm getting used to it.”

Hermione couldn't really help the smile that grew on her face.

“Well,” said Mrs. Weasley loudly. “Now that we're all here, how about we dig in? We are all civilized enough to be able to eat and talk at the same time, wouldn't you say?”

“I don't know, mum,” began one of the twins.

“Can't speak for Ron,” finished the other.

“Hey!” protested Ron. The twins laughed loudly and Ginny raised a hand to cover her mouth. Mrs. Weasley glowered at the twins.

“That's quite enough, boys,” said she.

Mr. Weasley chuckled. “Let's just eat, shall we?”

Mrs. Weasley's cooking was great as always. Ron in particular made no moves to hide how excellent he found it, much to Hermione's consternation. Billy seemed to be putting up with it rather amicably though, which honestly had been her greatest concern. A master of manners, Ron was not.

Dinner went on. Mrs. Weasley had to reprimand everyone several times when they asked Billy so many questions he hardly had time to eat, but he seemed okay with it, if a bit secretive. Then again, some of the questions were so personal Hermione herself would've refused to answer them and she'd known these people for years! They still learned a lot about Billy. For example, he was homeschooled (and attended muggle school on the side!), had three brothers (one twin, two younger) and was the only one in his family with magic apart from his mum.

“So is your mum the one who's been teaching you magic or did she hire tutors?” asked Hermione when she heard that. “And may I add I really admire that you've been keeping up with your muggle education as well?”

“Eh, thanks,” answered Billy. “And mom taught me a bit, but it's mostly been self-study and I've a friend who's… a couple of years older than me, he helped me a lot.”

“Using magic without direction can be very dangerous though,” said Mr. Weasley. Billy shrugged in response, but didn't say anything.

The twins were more interested in his family, specifically the twin brother he mentioned. They seemed truly distraught for a moment when Billy mentioned that “Just because he's my twin doesn't mean we're attached at the hip”. They joked it off almost immediately but Hermione knew what she'd seen.

They were so close they couldn't even imagine being apart.

After dinner was finished Hermione got roped into helping with the dishes. It was, in her opinion, still better than what the Weasley children was sent to do – cleaning the master study. She made sure to take her time with the dishes, protesting each time Mrs. Weasley tried to suggest that she could handle it on her own.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Kate rubbed her forehead after Teddy hung up on her. It would be at least three hours until he arrived and she really had no idea what to do until then. America had promised to be there as well and if she called Tommy could come in minutes, even if he was on the other side on the planet.

She felt miserable.

It was really the only thing on her mind when she didn't have anything to distract herself. One of her team was missing and three days of non-stop search had not turned anything up. Anything. She'd contacted everyone she could, hoping that someone might have seen or heard something, to absolutely no avail. The Avengers, while they promised to help, were more of the opinion that 'oh no, individual with powerful reality-altering abilities is unaccounted for' and less 'shit, Billy's missing', but she was worried enough to take what she could get.

The best response she'd got had been from Magneto, who had promised to contact more people whom Kate herself had no way of getting in touch with, like the Scarlet Witch for example. That was one Kate had high hopes for would be able to help. Problem was that according to Tommy, Wanda had been inaccessible for more than a week, and was supposed to be out of contact for at least as long still. That was why she'd hoped that Doctor Strange would've helped; the quicker this could be solved, the happier everyone would be. But he'd blown them off, Teddy had said.

Kate dragged a hand through her hair and resisted the urge to tug at it as she glanced at the clock. At least two hours and fifty minutes until Teddy would arrive.

She rested her elbows on her knees and buried her head in her hands.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Days in number 12 Grimmauld Place passed slowly, but eventually July left way for August. During that time Billy spent most of his days in the library, searching for anything that could help him in his search for a way home. Unfortunately, the more he searched, the more disappointed he became. Multiverse theory seemed to be completely foreign to the wizards of this universe.

He had spoken about the matter with Albus whenever the man had been in the house. Albus had looked apologetic and reminded Billy that the Hogwarts library was far bigger and far more diverse. It was a case of blatant manipulation but by then Billy had already agreed to the man's request.

Time passed rather monotonously for Billy, who only participated in cleaning the house when he asked to help, usually after another disappointment in the library. All cleaning seemed to be done non-magically and Billy hadn't protested, even though he felt he could probably have the entire house cleaned in minutes. It seemed it had been Sirius's childhood home, so Billy assumed the man wanted to go through everything himself, in case he found something he wanted to keep (unlikely as that seemed, considering the ease with which Billy had seen him throw away things).

It was the evening of the second of August that something happened to upset the routine of disappointment Billy had developed. A white owl had soared in and dropped off letters to Ron, Hermione and Sirius. The traffic in the house had exploded all of a sudden, with even Albus popping in for a short, stressed and angry visit in which he seemed to explain everything, though Billy understood nothing of it, and rage at Mundungus Fletcher. Sirius was upset, as were the children when they all had got the story.

Several hours later someone finally took the time to explain the situation to Billy. Tonks took him aside after the stress abated a little and explained about the dementors that had attacked Harry Potter. Billy looked concerned and nodded in the appropriate places, determined to find out more about these 'dementors'. Tonks seemed to assume he already knew about them and he wasn't about to correct her.

Instead, he maintained his concerned look and, when she spoke about how the Ministry planned to use the boy's use of self defense to expel him, let out a mumble of “Idiots.” Tonks snorted, and agreed.

After that, routine returned for a few days, but there was something different in the way people behaved. Anticipation hovered, especially around the children and Sirius. When he'd asked Hermione, who retreated to the library whenever she had a chance and as such often ran into Billy, she'd answered that the boy who the previous excitement had been about was going to be arriving in a few days. She was both happy and apprehensive about it.

That Friday a large group of Order members gathered to head off and collect Harry Potter. Personally, Billy felt it was unnecessary to send so many people when just one person could head off and get him, but no one seemed particularly interested in his opinion.

Billy got offered to join in, but one look at the broom (broom!) they offered him and he declined. Flying under his own power? Sure. Flying on a rickety piece of wood? No thanks.

Heading to the dining room Billy caught sight of Severus Snape. The man was stand-offish and Billy didn't really like him, but he was funny enough if you liked cutting wits and sharp sarcasm. They'd once had what Fred and George had termed “An epic snark-off”, that Billy wouldn't have much against repeating.

Judging from the glower he received, Snape had quite a lot against it though. That was somewhat of a pity. For those few minutes Billy had managed to forget that he was stranded in a strange universe seemingly without a hint of connection to the multiverse he was familiar with.

Ignoring Snape, Billy continued into the dining room. Arthur Weasley was the only other person there. He looked up from where he was reading a newspaper called _The Quibbler_ and nodded at Billy. _The Quibbler_ apparently didn't have much in the way of real news, but his wife had banned the major newspaper from even being read in her presence because of the lies they told.

Billy nodded back. “Anything interesting?”

“Well, if you're fond of conspiracy theories,” offered Arthur. “It's good for a laugh if nothing else. Xeno knows how to entertain.”

“Xeno?”

“Xenophilius Lovegood. He's the editor.”

“Ah.” Billy hesitated a moment. “Don't suppose I can borrow it when you're done?”

“I've read it before,” said Arthur and offered the paper. “It's an old paper.”

Billy took it. A glance at the top dated the paper to April 1993. For a newspaper of that age, it was remarkably well preserved. Then Billy took in the headline and choked on his breath.

“'Ministry Suspected in Encouraging Marsipandorian Cannibalism'?”

“It's a good article,” said Arthur, the embodiment of 'cool as a cucumber'. Billy settled down to read, morbid fascination battling with incredulity. Then again, considering what some people had told him about the Ministry, it wasn't that far a stretch to accuse at least parts of it of encouraging cannibalism.

Buried in the old newspaper, Billy sat oblivious to when more people entered the room, chattering on. He didn't look up until they fell silent, emphasizing the noise that had permeated the room a moment before. There were fewer people gathered than usual, but considering the large group that had departed to collect Harry Potter, it was plenty. Albus had managed to arrive as well. He'd just opened the meeting when muffled sounds could be heard from outside the room. Molly hurried out with a quick “It must be them!”

True enough it seemed to be them, if 'them' meant the Harry Potter retrieval team. The people who'd gone to collect the teen soon came into the room and sat down at the table. Billy smiled at those who met his gaze, but most of them seemed more concerned with other people. It was okay though; he was still a stranger to them.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

“By the Vishanti!”

“Doctor Strange?”

“My apologies. I just… I had thought… but if this is what I think it is…”

“Hey Strange, how about you stop groping those carvings and just tell us what's going on?”

“This whole matter is far more severe than I first assumed. We must hurry back. There is no time to waste.”


	3. In Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is suspicious, Ron could do with thinking a second longer before he talks and the Black family seems to have liked to disguise some of their Darker books as something a little less conspicuous. Also, Ginny learns a couple of interesting things.

The meeting dragged on forever, it felt like. But maybe Sirius was just impatient. He felt he had the right to be – Harry was here and Sirius hadn't even been able to _see_ him yet. Right, right, yes, Sirius knew the reasons he had been unable to go with the group that had got Harry and he knew that he could hardly up and leave in the middle of a meeting, but still! His godson was _here_ , in his _house_ , and he wanted to see him, dammit!

Despite the frustration he felt (which had to be damn near tangible) he participated in the meeting like usual, listening attentively and offering his own thoughts whenever he felt like it. Possibly more than necessary whenever Snivellus was talking, but there was no one who cared about him, surely.

By coincidence, his gaze fell upon Billy. The boy (and no, it didn't matter that Billy was legally an adult, he was a boy) seemed to drift off rather often, buried in one book or another, looking for something mysterious that he hadn't felt like sharing. At first Sirius had only found it slightly off-putting that the boy basically refused offers of aid but one time he'd seen what Billy was reading up on. It was a Dark Arts book, fully deserving of the capital letters, concerning the soul aspects of necromancy, disguised as an in-depth study of magical travel, complete with some seriously disturbing curses for those who read it without taking precautions.

Billy had later made an off-hand mention to Sirius about how it was an interesting read, wasn't it horrible the depravities some people would sink to and by the way, he removed those curses on the book, would Sirius like him to put them back on?

Sirius had politely declined and resolved to keep a closer eye on the boy. He didn't like what he saw.

Apart from the boy's intense stare whenever someone performed magic and his more than slightly questionable choice in reading material there was something that just rubbed Sirius the wrong way. In the same way that the dementors of Azkaban hadn't been able to effect him when he'd been a dog, Billy made the animagus uncomfortable whenever he shifted. If Sirius would have had to describe it, he would've said that chaos followed the boy. Remus had picked up on it as well, Sirius knew, the animalistic instincts of the wolf bleeding through. Where Sirius avoided and watched the boy from a distance though, Remus tried to get closer. They'd had an argument about it just a few nights ago, Sirius wanting his friend to get away from the boy he was becoming increasingly convinced was nothing but trouble, and not the good kind, and Remus arguing that “he's really a sweet kid” and that “reading about Dark Arts does not _make_ you dark”.

Remus kind of had a point there, but Sirius couldn't shake the feeling that bad things were going to happen and that Billy would be central to it. In the end, the two Marauders agreed to disagree. They also agreed to give “I told you so” rights to whoever turned out to be correct. It wasn't often Sirius wanted to be on the receiving side of those words, but this was one such time.

He had a bad feeling he would be the one to speak them though.

For now though, the meeting was over, that goddamn painting of his mother was shrieking its head off and he had a godson to greet.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Ron knew he could be a bit thick sometimes. He would have had to be quite a lot more than _a bit thick_ to miss the tensions that grew around the table when Harry demanded the information that really, he should've had access to from the beginning. Harry, too caught up in his righteous anger, probably didn't notice the number of people tensing and throwing around nervous looks, but Ron did. The glance he shared with Hermione told him that she too saw it.

That his mum went off like a faulty firecracker when Sirius started arguing Harry's side wasn't unexpected. The two had vastly different views on pretty much everything when it came to child-rearing. Sirius's permitting attitude clashed horribly with his mum's controlling one. When the argument began to look like Sirius had the upper hand, even Ron had to admit she got downright nasty. Bringing up Sirius's imprisonment in Azkaban was a step too far. Ron half expected spells to start flying before Lupin intervened and defused them both.

“It seems to me,” interjected Billy from where he sat, and many around the table flinched, seemingly having forgotten that he was there, “that from what I've heard and been able to piece together, that Potter will, eventually, _inevitably_ find himself mixed up in this, most likely sooner rather than later. The question seems to be whether you want him to walk into this blindly or not. I can only speak for myself in this, but not rushing in blindly and getting all the facts before acting could've saved me a lot of grief. Most likely some lives too, and Potter seems to have quite a lot more depending on him than I did.”

Ron didn't know if Billy had been meaning to say that much, because it seemed a bit too personal. He didn't have time to think about it for long as his mum again attempted a protest.

“He's just a child. He shouldn't have to deal with that kind of pressure.”

“So he's old enough to get a girl pregnant, but not old enough to know things that might save his life – and those of his friends?” There was a moment of stunned incomprehension. “Good to know,” added Billy over the laughter of the twins and Sirius and the reddening cheeks of Harry, Hermione and many others, including both Ron and his mother.

“That – that –” stammered mum, “that was entirely inappropriate!”

“Actually,” protested Hermione over pink-tinged cheeks, “the age of consent in the UK is sixteen.”

Sirius snickered. “In the UK maybe, but here in the Wizarding World, as long as you're past puberty, you're golden.” Hermione's cheeks reddened further.

“Can we get back on topic, please?” pleaded Harry. “I'm not going to get any girls pregnant any time soon, so please, Voldemort.”

Ron might not have been entirely attentive, as the next thing to make its way past his lips was a horrified “You're gonna get You-Know-Who pregnant?”

Harry looked at Ron as though the red-head had not only stabbed Harry in the back, but also killed his puppy, his kitten and possibly his firstborn. Which of course was patently ridiculous, since Harry had neither puppy nor kitten, and if he ever had a kid Ron hoped to be godfather, which would mean he'd hopefully be aware of the, oh, _existence_ of the kid.

When Ron looked around he found Fred apparently dying in his seat and George toppled over backwards, rolling around on the floor, whimpering about his sides in between fits of laughter. There was only one conclusion to be drawn and Ron fancied that he was rather quick with it.

“Did I miss something?”

Hermione patted him on the back. “Yes Ron. Yes you did.”

Ginny, who'd covered her mouth with her hands, lowered them, her lips twitching. “Thanks for the mental image though.”

“Guys,” moaned Harry into his hands, “topic!”

“Right,” said Sirius, chuckles dying off and face straightening. “What did you want to know?”

“Everything.” Harry frowned and the mood dropped significantly. “Where is Voldemort? What's he been doing? I've been watching the muggle news, and there's been nothing! No funny deaths or disappearances. Nothing.”

“That's because he's not been doing anything, Harry.”

“What?” asked Harry. “Why not?” Ron clenched his fist. That was something they'd been able to pick up from the extendable ears. You-Know-Who was laying low to gather followers and make Harry and Dumbledore look crazy when they said he was back.

As the questioning continued Ron mostly just leaned back and listened, getting information freely instead of having to listen at the keyhole, as it were. He was slightly afraid that if he drew any attention to himself his mother would remember that he was there and so send him away. Across the table, Ginny seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

And then came the true gold. “A weapon,” said Sirius. “Something he didn't have before.”

Sirius was probably the collective favorite person of the Hogwarts students in the room at that moment. He continued to be their favorite person even as they were sent to bed.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Being out of the Dursleys' house was a blessing. Being able to be with Ron, Hermione and Sirius was even more of a blessing. Waging war against Sirius's childhood home… not so much. It was something to do though, something to keep Harry's mind off of the reality of his approaching trial at the Ministry.

Four days after his arrival at Grimmauld Place, Harry wandered into the library after dinner to find Hermione deeply buried in a law book. Beside her sat Billy, the American, with a book of his own. Billy's book seemed like the prototype for the Monster book of Monsters, with the way it gnawed at his fingers if he left them on the pages too long.

“Doesn't it hurt?” wondered Harry out loud.

Billy looked up. “What, this?” He laughed. “No. It's like a kitten. A bit sharp, but no real power behind it. Wanna feel?”

Billy looked so earnest when he offered it. Harry felt like a git just thinking about declining. “It won't hurt?” He had to double-check.

“Ever been bitten by a kitten?” Billy paused a bit awkwardly and added quickly, “I did not intend for that to rhyme.”

Beside him, Hermione snorted and made some notes on a parchment.

Harry sighed. “Just put my hand like this or…?”

“That's fine. Just wait a little while now.”

Hermione, still taking notes of some kind, was failing to force down a smile. Harry couldn't deny that he got a bad feeling from it. “Hermi-ow!” Harry quickly withdrew his hand. He glared at Billy. “You said it wouldn't hurt!”

“Be honest now,” said Billy. “Did it really hurt, or were you just surprised?”

“Uh,” Harry looked down on his hand. It didn't even sting. “Surprised?”

“Right. Now apologize.” Billy was probably suppressing laughter. “You hurt her page, yanking your hand away like that.”

“I hurt…?” Because this was Harry's life. Hurting pages in biting books and all. “Um, sorry, book?”

The book purred.

Hermione's smile grew. “I think she accepts your apology, Harry.”

“Right.” Harry considered them. “Room for one more?” asked he. In response Hermione shifted closer to Billy, leaving place at her other side for Harry to sit down. “What are you reading?”

“The most recent edition of Wizarding Law. I'm noting the most relevant parts for you, for the trial.”

“It says Household Charms on the cover, but it reads more like a treatise on rituals. They seem rather, um, evil, but it's still interesting.”

Harry blinked. Hermione did the same. “Evil?”

“Well, it goes on about sacrifice of innocents in order to attain a more perfect state of being, which I feel is of a bit more than questionable morality.” Billy shrugged. “It actually reminds me of this book I read.”

The first impulse Harry got was to ask what kind of book Billy had read that a book on Dark Rituals would be reminiscent of it. His second impulse was to tell Billy to find some better reading, something that would not bring Mrs. Weasley's wrath down upon him if he was discovered with it. The third impulse didn't have the decency to remain an unvoiced one.

“Why are you reading a book on Dark Rituals?”

Smiling wryly, Billy answered, “I thought it was a book on household charms.”

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Ginny Weasley moved like a woman on a mission. Her steps were firm and her mind solely on her task. The relief that all the children had been granted from cleaning for the duration of Harry's trial was turning out to be a bad thing. Not that she wanted to clean, but the worry in the house was climbing to intolerable levels.

Logically, she knew that the Ministry didn't have a leg to stand on. But just as she knew that she also knew that they would be doing their very best to see Harry expelled anyway.

Everyone was tense. Ron alternated between walking around aimlessly and grumbling at anyone who talked to him, to isolating himself in his and Harry's shared room. Hermione repeated out loud, to herself and anyone who came near enough, all the laws that she'd found that argued for Harry's innocence. The twins didn't joke around at all.

Correction, thought she as she spied her quarry, _almost_ everyone was tense. Billy Kaplan, for all that he'd come to be a friend, wasn't really as caring about the outcome of Harry's trial as the rest of them.

That made him the perfect distraction.

“Hey.”

Billy looked up. “Hey.”

“Can I sit down?”

“Sure.” Billy moved to the side, pushing along the book he was reading. It seemed like he always had a book close at hand. Mostly concerning magical travel or combat magic, but Ginny knew that he'd been reading some really odd things on the side.

“Thanks,” said Ginny. “What are you reading?”

“Defeating the Darkness. A bit of a pretentious title, but it's a good course book.”

“Course book? You used it yourself?”

He smiled. “No, Albus recommended it. It's very methodical and it's got a good approach to the _how_ of defense. Although…” Billy trailed off and looked at her contemplatively.

“Although what?” asked she, because she knew he expected it.

“I've actually been looking for a way to approach this tactfully,” said Billy, looking slightly sheepish. “But… could you explain to me what all this focus on wands and wand movements is about?”

It took Ginny maybe ten seconds to piece together that statement.

“What – but – _focus_ – you _can't_ do magic without a wand, of course there's _focus_ on… it…” Ginny's voice faded away as the implications of the question dawned on her. Billy's almost comically wide eyes at her denial of the existence of wandless magic cemented her conclusion. “You can do wandless magic,” breathed she.

“I've never had to use a wand of any kind,” confirmed Billy. He paused before continuing, slightly more hesitantly. “Is that really such a big deal?”

Ginny felt faint. What kind of power did Billy have, to never have to use a wand? And then claim that to him it wasn't even a big deal? “Let's just say I'm glad I'm already sitting down.” Ginny tried for a smile. It was probably a bit wobbly, but Billy smiled back, looking less unsure.

“Maybe I should get a wand then,” mused he.

“Why?” Ginny frowned in confusion.

Billy shrugged. “To see if it's compatible with my magic? To figure out how it works? I mean, if I'm going to be your teacher I should at least be somewhat familiar with the tools you use, shouldn't I?”

Ginny blinked. “Teacher?”

“No one told you? I'm going to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.”

Stunned silence seemed to have become Ginny's default answer. “ _You're_ our new teacher?”

“No need to sound so shocked.”

“But – you can't be more than nineteen!”

“Eighteen,” corrected Billy. Ginny gave him a sour look.

“Like that's better,” muttered she. Even as she spoke though, ideas grew in her mind as did a smile on her face. “So… you're gonna be our teacher, huh?”

He nodded in answer. “Here's hoping I won't mess the lot of you up for life.”

Snorting her laughter, Ginny's smile widened into a grin. “We're already plenty messed up. You'll have to try hard if you want to cause more damage.”

“I think I'll refrain,” said Billy. He closed the book and stood up. “I should probably hear with someone about getting a wand.”

Ginny stood up as well. “You can probably come with us when we go to get our school things. The lists should come any day now. I could show you where to go.”

Billy smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Though...” she paused just long enough for Billy to raise an eyebrow, “if you want to do me a favor, please don't tell the others you're our new Professor? I want to hold it over their heads a little.”

“That you know something they don't?” The two of them started walking towards the stairs.

“And trade it for a promise. Harry, Ron and Hermione… they always get involved in things. I want to help them if something happens again.”

Something darkened Billy's expression. “Hm,” said he silently, “you'll probably have to force them to see that you will go with them, regardless of their wishes. Especially if they want to keep you safe. But a promise would go a long way, I think.”

At the stairs, Billy stopped. “Here's where I leave you. I've lesson plans to write.”

“Sure,” said Ginny as she started down the stairs. “Professor.” Billy's laughter followed her down and into the kitchen.


	4. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hogwarts letters have arrived so the yearly trip to Diagon Alley is coming up. But why doesn't Molly want the kids to come along? Well there Billy does not find out what a goblin is and an unpleasant surprise awaits at Ollivanders.

Four days after Harry's trial Ginny was awakened by her mother's screaming. Hermione, who'd apparently been awake for a while, was not in the room. Casting a quick glance at the clock, Ginny was displeased to find that she'd overslept and that, most likely, if her mother hadn't already woken her she would've been heading to Ginny and Hermione's room to wake her daughter.

“Hoot,” came a sound from one corner of the room. Ginny sat straight up and fumbled after her wand before she managed to place the sound as that an owl. It could still be Fred and George attempting to play a prank on her, but she still lowered her guard a bit.

“Yes?” asked she. The owl flew up to her and seated itself resplendently on her duvet-covered knee. It held out a leg and Ginny could just make out the familiar insignia on the envelope.

Her Hogwarts letter.

Taking the letter from the owl with a murmured “Thank you,” Ginny wasted no time in ripping open the envelope. The owl, knowing it's duty was done, left the room via the window Hermione had insisted on keeping open. Ginny scanned the contents and sure enough, at the end of the book list, she found _Defeating the Darkness, by Orvin Underlate_.

She jumped slightly when Hermione's scream rang out much like Ginny's mother's. Pulling on her clothes Ginny made her way to the source of the noise.

Everyone was gathered in Harry and Ron's room. “What's going on?” demanded Ginny. Her mother turned around with a big smile that was just held a hint of fragility.

“Oh Ginny, it's wonderful! Show her, Ronnie!”

Ron's ears reddened at the nickname but held out his hand, upon which a small metal pin rested. A small metal pin that Ginny had no problem identifying.

“Prefect?” breathed Ginny and looked around the room, from the twins to Harry, to Hermione, to Ron himself. “Prefect? Ron?”

“Apparently,” said Ron. “Why so surprised?”

“Like you're not,” said Ginny.

Their mum interrupted them. “Ginny, do you have your book list?”

“Um, yeah. Why?”

Her smile wavered slightly, but solidified quickly. “Give it to me now, I'll head out after breakfast and gather all your things. Better get it done fast and all that.”

“I could carry it myself, I wouldn't loose it,” protested Ginny.

“But Gin-Gin,” interjected one of the twins, “haven't you heard?”

“It's too dangerous for kiddies like us to go out there,” continued the other.

“Too – but – mum!” Ginny turned to her mother, whose eyes were filled with gentle but steely determination. “Mum, you can't be serious.”

“I am plenty serious and that's not the reason at all.” She glowered at the twins. “There is no need for all of us to go anyway. You can stay and work on your summer homework.”

“But mum!” tried Ginny again. She was long done with her homework, it had been finished since the end of July.

“I already had this discussion with your brothers, Ginny. Book list.” Hand outstretched, her mum was not to be denied. Ginny bit down on her lower lip to keep from pouting. Now that the opportunity to go out had presented itself, the urge to leave the house was not easily extinguished. Ginny ransacked her brain for a reason, any reason, that could get her on the trip.

“I promised I'd show Billy around!” Hey, that was a pretty good reason. Ginny mentally high-fived herself.

“Ginny, I'm sure–”

“Morning everyone,” called a voice out from the door.

“Sirius!” greeted Harry.

“I heard screaming, so I decided to come and investigate. What's going on?”

“Our Hogwarts letters came.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “And… that's cause for screaming?”

“This is,” said Ron, looking more proud and sure of himself as he held the badge forward again, this time without prompting. Sirius took a long look at the badge.

“Huh,” said he, “congrats.”

Ron smiled.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor outside the room. Ginny sneaked a look behind Sirius's back and lit up. “Billy! In here!”

Billy walked up to the door and swept a quick glance over everyone in the room. Then he looked at Ginny with a raised eyebrow. “Are we playing sardines?”

Ignoring him for the moment (as well as the reference to this game she'd never heard of, but she assumed involved cramming lots of people into a small space) she held up her letter. “Our Hogwarts letters came! Mum mentioned going to Diagon Alley after breakfast.”

Never say Ginny couldn't twist facts.

“ _I_ will be heading out after breakfast,” said mum, not letting Ginny get away with it. “You're welcome to join me, but the children will be staying here.”

Billy looked between them, clearly wondering what the issue was and which side, if any, he should take. Sirius took the opportunity to get his two knuts in.

“Come on Molly,” said he. “Let the kids go. If nothing else they'll be useful for carrying things, right?”

Instead of answering Sirius, her mum turned to Ginny and the rest. “How many of you are done with your homework?”

Ginny and Hermione raised their hands. Harry followed suit a bit hesitantly. “Almost,” offered he.

“How almost?”

“Just need to check through one last time for spelling mistakes and the like.”

She sighed. “Fine. You three can come with.” Predictably, Ron, Fred and George erupted into complaints. It took nearly a minute for them to calm down enough for her to get a word in edgewise. “No. You've had nearly the entire summer to finish your homework. I know it doesn't take nearly this long if you just knuckle down and get it over with. We leave at ten. Either finish your work, come up with a good reason – and I mean _brilliant_ reason – why you should get to come, or stay here. I don't particularly care anymore.”

Ron looked slightly sick as their mum left the room, storming straight past Sirius and Billy. Fred and George traded looks and apparated away, presumably to work on either homework or excuses.

“What's crawled up her backside?” asked Sirius.

“No idea,” answered Harry. “Come on Ron, you've only got the transfiguration essay left, right?”

“Yeah,” muttered Ron. “You'll help me?”

Hermione sighed. “Yes Ron, we'll help. In return you'll help us with proofreading when we get back.”

“I thought you were done,” said Sirius bemusedly.

“I am, and I've checked it over twice. That doesn't mean there can't be errors I've missed.”

Ginny barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Hermione's essays were famous for accuracy and, thanks to a small arrangement of theirs, also used as reference papers for Ginny. Apparently, Hermione didn't have half as much against letting Ginny refer to her old essays as she had against letting Harry and Ron read and copy off them. It might have been because of the wording, Ginny knew that Ron had explicitly asked if he could copy Hermione's essay more than once, while Ginny herself had asked if she could use the essays as a reference.

In Ginny's mind it amounted to pretty much the same thing, but Hermione obviously saw a difference there somewhere.

“Well,” said Sirius. “I'm heading down to breakfast. Who's with me?”

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Diagon Alley. Billy probably would've laughed at the name if he hadn't already gotten used to “Hogwarts”. The wizards had strange naming conventions.

The alley was rather impressive, if chaotic. Everywhere, people were rushing about, buying this, looking at that and hurrying past there, because if the kids went in there they'd never get them out.

The title of most impressive in the alley went uncontested to the large, pure white building that towered at the end though. That was where Molly led them first, past the guards (who were definitely not human, but that would be rude to point out, so Billy tried not to stare) and into a huge hall. More of the not-humans filled the hall, some of them more guards, some of them leading humans to and from different places and yet some more sitting weighing precious gems or stacking gold coins or talking to each other in a language Billy couldn't understand.

In short, it was nothing like what Billy knew of banks. It did lend to the feeling of “fantasy world” and made Billy's inner geek jump up and down in excitement, so he took it with good humor.

Molly walked the group up to one of the not-humans, and told him (probably a him at least) that they were there for a withdrawal. He asked for the key, and Billy realized that he probably meant the key Albus had given Billy the week previous. Billy fished the key out and handed it to the not-human at the same time Molly handed her key forward. Harry followed suit. They were handed off to a different not-human who led them to a cart.

The ride in the cart was epic. There was no other way to describe it.

When they sat down in the cart, the not-human warned them to keep all limbs inside the cart at all times. They were also recommended to keep a tight hold on something. Then the cart started moving. It wasn't that fast at first, but when they passed the first curve the speed picked up.

And boy, did it pick up.

The cart rushed forward at such speeds that Billy figured even Tommy might have been able to enjoy the ride. Usually Tommy avoided roller-coasters, since the biggest lure they held was high speeds and dangling upside-down in the loops. Tommy was never impressed by the speeds they reached. To him the ride took half an eternity and he wasn't enthused with the “dangling upside-down” part.

The cart went faster than any roller-coaster Billy had ever even heard of and there were no loops to be found. He laughed in excitement.

“Can this go any faster?” yelled Billy at the not-human. He looked startled, but answered.

“One speed only.”

Despite that, Billy thought the speed increased.

Eventually they'd made all their stops and picked up their coins (Billy thanked Albus mentally for explaining the currency system) and headed back. When they got out of the cart, on slightly shaky legs, Billy hung back just a bit.

“That one speed of yours,” muttered he to the not-human, “it's 'accelerating', isn't it?”

The not-human grinned at him but declined to answer. Instead, he gave Billy a quiet warning. “Be careful out there,” said he silently. “Your kind are ill accepted among wizards.”

Billy's first thought was that he'd dealt with mutant-haters before, but then he remembered he'd mentioned mutants to Albus and the man had denied the existence of such in this universe. His second thought was that this not-human must have had an excellent gay-dar. Again though, he'd dealt with that before.

It seemed a bit odd that the not-human would note it, but he thanked the not-human for the warning nonetheless.

Rejoining the group, Billy followed them back through the alley. Ginny excitedly pointed out everything he might possibly be interested in, starting with the local ice cream shop. He only half-listened to her ramblings until…

“...and there's our wand shop, Ollivanders. Ollivander himself can be a bit creepy, so if you want to go in there, I've warned you. And over there's the bookstore. We'll be disappearing in there now, so if you don't want to buy some books of your own, you can just run wild in the rest of the alley.”

“I'll be fine. Any idea when you'll want to leave?” The question was directed at Molly.

“We'll leave in two hours or so, unless you've got something important to check out?”

“Two hours will be plenty. Meet outside the ice cream place?”

“Fortescues, yes. That'll work perfectly. Come along, children.”

Molly led the group of kids away. Billy waited a moment before turning and walking to the wand shop.

From the outside the shop didn't look like much, compared to some of the other places in the alley. But Billy didn't rely solely on his sight anymore. Hadn't for a long time. Magic filled the air with an inaudible buzz, an untouchable blanket, an unseen glow of pure potential.

It turned Billy's stomach.

He had no words for it but “wrong”. There was an undeniable _pull_ coming from the store, but it felt… shattered? Broken? No, lost. Lost was the best descriptor Billy could find. Scattered came close too. Frayed ends of a thread that were cut long ago, or maybe not so long ago in some cases.

Then a violent flare of magic erupted from within the store and Billy forced himself to overcome the uncomfortable feelings and head inside.

Billy entered the shop to an old man yanking a wand out of a child's hand.

“No, no, no,” said the old man. “Try this one instead. You can take a seat, we shouldn't be much longer,” added he to Billy.

The child grasped the new wand she was offered and Billy could feel how the frayed tendrils of magic in the wand tasted the magic of the girl. The magics brushed up against each other, trying to align, succeeding in some places and failing in others. Once again the old man took it back, this time before some disastrous effect was brought into play.

“No, not this one either… but maybe…” and so the old man went over to one of the shelves and pulled out a box. From it, he lifted a wand and handed it to the child. “Try this,” said he with a small smile.

This time the magic aligned beautifully. Billy knew in that moment that “lost” had been just the right word because this was like coming home. The magic settled down into an organized pattern and a shower of sparks flew from the wand. The old man clapped excitedly.

“Brilliant!” exclaimed he. “Absolutely marvelous! That's hazel, ten and a half inch long, with a core of unicorn hair. Take good care of it now, miss Heedly.”

Miss Heedly assured him that she would and handed over the gold coins he asked for. It was first when she was out the door that the old man turned to Billy.

“A bit old for your first wand, aren't you?”

Billy wanted to bite back something along the lines of _“_ _A_ _bit old to still be skipping around like that?”_ but refrained. He shrugged in answer.

The old man nodded slowly. “Dumbledore did mention that you would be coming. He was under the impression that you'd lost your wand, but that's not entirely correct, is it? I'm Ollivander by the way, owner of this store and maker of these wands.”

“Billy Kaplan. And yeah… I've never had a wand before.”

Admittedly, Billy was growing less and less sure that this was a good idea. The magic tendrils of the wands were reaching for him, trying to find handholds where they could latch on and fall into a harmony that made something rage inside whenever one of them succeeded. The connections were fleeting, severed almost as soon as they were made, but that didn't help much.

Ollivander had gone to pick out a few boxes and returned with at least twenty of them. A suspicious look in his eyes, he handed Billy one of them.

Billy reached out to take it, but barely had his fingers brushed the handle when his magic reacted to the grasping magic of the wand. Violently.

He fell to his knees, gasping for air. Ollivander was pushed several steps backwards. The wand itself emitted a shrieking, piercing noise as it touched the floor.

It took several moments before either of them could move.

“That…” murmured Ollivander, “that's probably the most violent rejection I've ever seen.”

Rejection huh? But no, Billy wasn't so sure it was the kind of rejection Ollivander spoke of. Ollivander had been so excited when the girl's wand had done to her what this wand had done to Billy after all. Every single one of the wand's tendrils had found a handhold somewhere in Billy and had tried to calm it, chain it.

Too bad Billy's magic was the opposite of calm and he did not take well to being chained.

Ollivander seemed to have missed that though, as the picked the wand up and exchanged it for another. Once again he held out the wand. This time when Billy made to reach for it, much more carefully than the first time, he focused on the magic tendrils and how they reached for him.

These ones reached for different handholds and again, as his fingers touched the wand and the tendrils grabbed him in a choke-hold and tried to force him down, his magic flared.

Billy was grateful he was already on his knees. Had he stood up he would've collapsed completely. Ollivander was smacked in the forehead with the wand as it was flung away from Billy.

They stared at each other. “I don't think this was such a good idea,” said Billy weakly.

Ollivander frowned slightly in thought. Then he seemed to get an idea, as he started murmuring to himself.

“I can't believe Dumbledore would… absolutely idiotic… break the _law_ …” Billy wasn't very comforted by that last one. Ollivander walked over to the door and flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED. Then he turned to look at Billy. “Come along,” said he, “into the back room.”

The back room looked nothing like the rest of the store. It was almost completely bare, apart from a work desk and a fireplace along one wall. Ollivander rounded on Billy.

“I don't know what Dumbledore told you, but you can't carry a wand. It's against the law!”

“What law?” Confusion wasn't really an apt word for what Billy was feeling, but he couldn't come up with a better one at the moment. He could add something along the lines of _very_ or _really_ to the _confused_ and come closer. Ollivander looked frustrated.

“Magical creatures can't carry wands!”

Oh. Okay.

…What?

Billy's brain stopped, took several seconds to restart and categorically refused to allow him use of full sentences. 

“But – I – that can't – magical  _ what _ ?”

“I will admit that's a good disguise you've got, but your magic betrays you.”

“I'm human!” Well, close enough. It got a little hard to define sometimes,  what with magic and Vision and reincarnation and all.

“No. Like I said, it's a good disguise but…” Ollivander paused and looked at him again. “You didn't know, did you?” Without waiting for an answer Ollivander went to the fireplace. A flick of a wand and a roaring fire flared up. He tossed some powder into it and the flames turned green. “Hogwarts, headmaster's office,” said he, and stuck his head in. Billy yelped, but Ollivander waved him away. “ Go back outside, I have a talk to have with Dumbledore. I won't be long.”

As the old man was apparently fine, Billy headed out. Wizards. He shivered.

True to Ollivander's words, he didn't take long. When he came back out he was carrying yet another wand. “This one should work for you,” said he and held out it. Billy hesitated again, but as he reached for it he could feel nothing grabbing at him, trying to force him into a pattern of fake calm.

“It's…” began Billy, but he didn't know how to continue.

“Driftwood,” said Ollivander, looking way too pleased with himself. “No magic in it at all to try to tame yours. Good for keeping a cover, not for much else. I didn't tell Dumbledore about you being a creature, if he doesn't know already it should be for you to tell. I did tell him you were far more powerful than he suggested and he apologized for springing you on me. That piece of wood will be three sickles for the time it took to shape it.”

Billy blinked and handed over the silver coins.

“Thank you,” said Ollivander and turned to put away the wands he'd left out. Billy put the “wand” away and left the shop. Glancing at his watch he found he had almost an hour left before he was supposed to meet up with the others. Slowly shaking his head to rid himself of the remaining bad feelings from the wands he took a deep breath and  walked to explore a bit.


	5. Bribery and Blackmail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny doesn't play fair, Billy shops for souvenirs and the kids leave for Hogwarts. A stranger greets Kate using both her name and codename. And what's happened to Loki?

Hermione was standing in the middle of Flourish and Blotts with her mouth hanging open. On both her sides, Harry and Ron mimicked her expression.

“Ginny!” yelped Ron.

Hermione hushed Ron, before turning back to his sister. “It's not like we plan these things, Ginny. They just happen.”

“And even if we did, why would you want to come with?” asked Harry darkly. “It's not just fun and games, you know.”

“That's exactly _why_ I want to come,” said Ginny hotly. “Do you think it's fun hearing about how you've gone off doing dangerous things all on your own? To stand on the side lines and have nothing but the hope that you'll come back all right? I can take care of myself, if you're worried about that. Of course, you could either promise me this and I'll tell you who our new professor is, or I could go off on my own trying to follow you when something happens again and you'll have to wait until the feast to find out who it is.”

“That's blackmail!” said Hermione.

“Whatever works,” snapped Ginny.

Harry's mouth drew into a sharp line. “No Ginny. Your safety is more important than finding out who our teacher will be. We'll know in two weeks anyway.”

“You're just ignoring the part where I said I'll go after you anyway?”

“Yes. Because you won't.”

Ginny glared. “You won't be able to stop me.” She turned on the spot and went off towards the door.

“Ginny!” Ron tried to grab her, but she was too fast.

“What's going on here?”

“Just a slight disagreement, Mrs. Weasley,” said Hermione quickly. “Nothing to worry about.”

Mrs. Weasley made a strange face, before a small smile returned to her face. “ _Really_? I'd hope you remember that I know you lot. Just… just try to make up quickly, okay?”

“We will, mum,” assured Ron.

Mrs. Weasley's hand twitched a little. “Have you got all your books?”

“Yes,” said Hermione. Harry and Ron's affirmative noises followed in short succession.

“Good. We have about an hour before we need to be at Fortescues, so I'll trust you can handle yourselves somewhat, Harry, Hermione.”

Ron looked upset at being excluded. “What about me, mum?”

“I assumed you'd want to come with me to look at broomsticks,” answered Mrs. Weasley. Ron brightened, but his face fell slightly as he looked at his friends.

“Go, Ron,” encouraged Hermione. “I need to pop by at the Magical Menagerie, anyway.”

“I'd like to go with you, actually,” said Harry to Ron. “If it's okay.”

“Sure!” said Ron.

“Boys,” sighed Hermione.

“You know you love us,” said Ron.

“Still,” reiterated Hermione with a long-suffering look, “ _boys_.”

They all laughed.

“I'll see you at Fortescues,” said Hermione.

“See you there,” said Harry as they walked off.

Hermione was about to leave as well when she caught sight of a familiar head of red hair.

“Ginny!”

The girl turned around. “Rethought?” asked she.

“Maybe,” said Hermione.

For a while they just stared at each other. People moved around them until Hermione finally caved and took Ginny's hand, pulling her to the side.

“I see where you're coming from Ginny,” said she. “I really do. But I don't know… are you sure you've thought this through?”

“I am,” said Ginny.

Hermione sighed, then tried to compromise. “I'll argue your side,” promised she, “but I can't promise more than that.” Ginny looked contemplative.

“I suppose that's the best I'm going to get from you?”

“Yes.”

This time Ginny sighed, but a small, honest smile slowly stretched across her face. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” said Hermione. She paused and looked around before speaking again. “So about our new professor…” she trailed off meaningfully. Ginny laughed.

“Fine,” said she, “okay, I'll tell. It's Billy.”

Hermione stayed silent as the new information planted itself in her head. She followed up with what would've been a spectacular spit-take had she been drinking something. “But – he can't be that much older than us! A few years, at most!”

Nodding in agreement, Ginny said, “Eighteen, he told me.”

“Oh my… but I do suppose that explains why he lives at Headquarters,” mused Hermione. “I mean, if he's to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“I figured that too,” said Ginny. “And for the sake of the library. I think he studies magical travel. Those books he's always looking through are really interesting. Did you know that there's a kind of portkey that doesn't spin you around but splinches you if you have both your feet on the ground when it activates? Or that apparently there are magical portals that can be set up as a permanent doorway between two different places?”

Hermione started to lead them towards the Magical Menagerie. “The first one, no, but the second one, yes. Professor Babbling mentioned it. It's actually the kind of portal there is at platform nine and three quarters.”

“I thought that was an illusion,” said Ginny.

“An illusion covers it,” answered Hermione, “but it is a portal.”

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Wandering around the alley quickly lost its charm. It was impressive, yes, with all the colorful advertisements and things for sale, but it really was no different from any other shopping district, with the exception of the obviously magical stuff. And even then Billy could've sworn that he'd seen some of that at home.

Billy was just about to leave the third store in ten minutes that had held nothing interesting at all when he caught sight of something in a bargain bin. A bunch of colorful crystals hanging in coarse string.

“How much for these?” he felt compelled to ask. The shopkeeper barely glanced in his direction.

“Ten sickles for the lot.”

Billy hesitated for barely a moment before he handed over the requested coins. They were pretty if nothing else, and one of them was Kate's exact shade of Hawkeye-purple. When he got back home, he could give it to her. The rest of the team would have to fight over the other crystals. Though, thought he as he held them up to let them catch the light, he knew which one he would keep for himself.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Time passed quickly after the shopping trip. Soon enough Sirius found himself trotting alongside Harry through King's Cross in dog form, to say goodbye as the kids went to Hogwarts for yet another year.

“Woof,” said Sirius and pawed at Harry. Harry glanced down and Sirius leaned up for a scratch. Things were so much simpler as a dog. Harry's hand combing through his fur was enough for Sirius to be completely happy with existence. His tail wagged. Back and forth. Back and forth. Harry's hand went _scratch, scratch_ on his head. Sirius's tongue hung out of his mouth.

_Ha~ppy~_

Never mind that he wouldn't see Harry for almost four months. Harry was here now and wouldn't leave for at least ten minutes! That was plenty of time.

On his other side Remus chuckled. Remus was happy. Sirius's tail wagged even more  as he walked on .

There was platform nine. Ten on the other side. Sirius's mood fell slightly. Harry would be leaving now. Sirius followed through to the hidden platform, determined to get a decent goodbye, even though he couldn't  _say_ the words. 

_Goodbye Harry. I'll miss you. Be safe._

He kind of hoped he managed to make it clear even without saying it out loud.

Then Harry and the other kids got on the train. Sirius whined. Remus scratched his head lightly. He leaned into it. Then the train slowly moved forward, picking up more speed the further it went. It wasn't until they could no longer see it that Remus led Sirius away, heading back to Grimmauld Place.

That was okay.

Sirius wanted to curl up in his room for a little while anyway.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

_Knock knock knock_ .

Kate looked up sharply at the sound. Was Teddy already here? Or had Tommy decided to check in on her?

She opened the door and found herself face to face with a  woman she'd never seen before .

“I need your help,” said the woman.

“Um, that's nice,” said Kate hesitantly, “but I don't know if I can…”

“You can,” assured the woman. “You're Hawkeye, right? Kate Bishop?” Kate blanched. “Don't bother lying to me,” continued the woman blithely.

Coming back to herself Kate grabbed the  woman by the arm and pulled them both inside, shutting the door behind them. “ Where did you hear that?  Who are you? ”

The  woman took her hat off. Dyed purple hair fell down from underneath it. “My name's Verity Willis. Two days ago, Loki disappeared. He told me to find you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION:  
> This can be seen as the end of "arc one" of this story. Unfortunately, I've run into a bit of a snag. Originally this story was intended to cover Harry and co.'s fifth year and only the fifth year. Now, it seems like it wants to cover year six and seven as well. I've got a vague idea of how it would turn out in that case, but it would require me to restructure the plotline for greater involvement of Marvel 'verse characters, as they would become more involved in the sequels.
> 
> And yes, sequels. This story will conclude with the end of fifth year regardless.
> 
> If I decide to continue this into sixth and seventh year I expect updates might slow for a while as I get my plot in order. Nothing's been decided yet, but it will hopefully be soon. In the meantime I would appreciate any thoughts you might have on this. Thank you :)


	6. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome students new and old. And welcome to our new professors - all three of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeh, I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter, so I might rewrite it in the future. But it's been so long and I just want to get something up. Hope you'll enjoy it anyway.

Walking through the train looking for a place to sit was, thought Ron, a habit they could do to break. Leave home an hour earlier and get to the station before all the compartments were filled up. It wasn't like it was hard to figure out.

It was hard in practice though. Packing the night before seemed to be impossible and the morning rush always managed to take half an hour more than it should.

This year was different though. This year he would be going to the front of the train, to the prefects' carriage. Now walking through the train with Hermione, the unease he'd felt since opening his letter to find the badge flaring up again.

Prefect.

_Blimey_ didn't really feel like the right word, but Ron figured that if he tried to utter what he really thought his mum would find her way to stand right behind him, ready to box his ears.

How was he supposed to be a _prefect_? He wasn't like Bill, not at all. Bill was cool, he was liked by everyone and had great grades. Nor was Ron like Charlie. Charlie was as cool as Bill, but managed it all in different ways. He'd been quidditch captain. Ron wasn't even like Perc – the-brother-that-shall-not-be-named. So okay, it was good that Ron was not like _him_. The twins weren't prefects. Was that good or bad?

Ron tried to swallow the thoughts. They were doing him no good.

“Right,” said Hermione. Ron started. He'd almost forgotten that she was there. “Let's do this, hm?”

It probably shouldn't have been so relieving to see his own nervousness reflected in her face, hidden as it was. “Let's,” answered Ron, just a little bit hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, let's.”

She smiled at him. They entered the carriage with heads held high. Ron was determined to make it through this. He _would_ make it.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

The castle was incredible. Billy walked through the corridors in wonder, sometimes greeting a portrait or two but mostly just enjoying the architecture and the view.

Far better than thinking about what the hell he'd managed to get himself into.

Really, what had he been thinking? Sure, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, teaching preteens and teenagers to defend themselves in exchange for help to get home – but preteens and teenagers? He was a teenager himself! Would they even listen to him?

He stopped by a window and looked out over the lake. It was calm, sunlight dancing over the surface. His eyes were drawn to a particular piece of the shore, where he had apparently been found over a month earlier.

Billy sighed. Glaring at a piece of land wasn't useful at all. Resenting that piece of land because he was, for all intents and purposes, trapped in this strange dimension wasn't reasonable. Wanting to blow that piece of land away… was probably an indicator that he should get some rest, and maybe professional help.

But it was far easier to place blame on an innocent heap of dirt than the person (thing?) that had brought him here, simply because the dirt was here, ready to be scattered to the four winds.

He turned away from the window and searched for a staircase. He wanted to return to his room and spend the rest of the day there, until dinner was served.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Ron made it through the prefects' meeting. Barely. By the skin of his teeth. Hermione managed a little better, but unlike what they'd both thought, it wasn't nerves that was their biggest problem.

No, that title went to Draco Malfoy. Ron wasn't really sure what he'd expected but in hindsight Malfoy really was an obvious pick for prefect, if for no other reason than the fact that Snape hated Gryffindors and Malfoy would definitely abuse his power to make life terrible for every Gryffindor he came across.

Hermione led the way through the train in search of Harry and Ginny. Ron picked up little snippets of conversation here and there. Some of it made him grit his teeth.

“They say he's lost it.”

“I heard he never _had_ it.”

“Harry Potter…”

“Completely insane…”

“…seemed okay at first, but you know sometimes they just snap, you know?”

Hermione seemed to hear them as well; her hands clenched into fists and she moved just a little bit faster. They walked in silence for a while.

“They're morons,” said Ron when he couldn't stand the silence anymore. Hermione slowed down a little and fell into step beside him rather than ahead. “I mean, complete idiots. And they'll realize that soon.”

Hermione shuddered almost unnoticeably. “Soon might be optimistic. When people want to be dumb there's not much that'll stop them.”

“And you'd suppose I'd know that or what?” Ron smiled jokingly at her.

“You're not dumb, Ron. If you'd apply yourself some it would be noticed in your grades as well.”

Ron clenched his jaw and managed not to say anything for a while. That was an argument they could do without repeating again. Hermione's obsession with schoolwork got on Ron's nerves faster than a Gringotts cart got to a vault.

“We should've asked them where they were going to sit.”

Hermione answered with a shrug. “It's not like we won't find them eventually.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Their trek through the train continued in silence. Neither of them spoke until they finally found Harry and Ginny's compartment. When he caught a look of the other occupants of the compartment Ron cursed in his head. Looney Lovegood. Great. Just what he needed.

Okay, he was probably being a bit unfair, the girl was harmless, if annoying.

But he wasn't in the mood for her.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

“Dolores, this is William Kaplan. William, this is Dolores Umbridge.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Same.”

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

A change had come.

It hovered in the air, just out of reach but close enough to be felt. Like a little butterfly, fluttering about happily and without care for what the beat of its wings might bring. Whatever had made this change was a bit bigger than a butterfly though. Luna fingered her necklace absentmindedly. Daddy had been worried about it and given her the charm that now rested around her neck. Luna had been certain it was unnecessary, but daddy had insisted and she hadn't the heart to deny him.

It was pretty though. A soft yellow crystal etched with runes from the old futhark for protection against unknown forces. The rune work was intricate and creative and small enough that it passed for flaws in the crystal when observed from a distance.

Mostly Luna enjoyed letting it catch the sun and watch the room flare yellow around her. There was no sun out now though and the crystal hung safely beneath her robes as she assured Harry Potter that the thestrals were indeed there and that he was perfectly sane. Or at least, no worse off than herself.

He made a funny face at her when she said that. Maybe she should've phrased it differently?

Oh well.

Still, being back at Hogwarts was nice. Not really like coming home, because home was with daddy, always, but maybe like going to a grandmother's place.

Luna got on the carriage and enjoyed the flight best she could. When it landed she walked calmly to the Great Hall and sat down at the Ravenclaw table, taking no real note of the world around her. She applauded whenever the hat sorted one of the new first-years into Ravenclaw. The food came and the food went and it wasn't until then she found her attention grabbed completely by one of the new additions at the professors' table. Her crystal necklace heated against her skin.

By then Professor Dumbledore had stood up. “As you can see,” said he, “we have some changes in our staff. Please welcome Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking over the Care of Magical Creatures class,” he paused for the applause. “Welcome also to Professor Kaplan, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Again applause followed, along with both dubious and interested looks toward Professor Kaplan, who looked to be not much older than the seventh years. Luna grasped at the crystal under her robes.

“And finally,” said Professor Dumbledore when the noise died down, “I wish to welcome Professor Umbridge, who will take over History of Magic.”

 


	7. Contemplations and confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus contemplates the new additions to the castle. Hermione confronts a dorm mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tempted to say that you have no idea how much this chapter fought me, but considering the amount of time since last I updated, you probably have at least an inkling. I have a bunch of excuses (lost my outline, lost inspiration, I can't write Umbridge why the heck did I volunteer to write Umbridge this could have been placed during fourth year with just a couple of small modifications, etc.) but screw excuses.
> 
> I removed the Umbridge scene from this chapter, but with a bit of polish and rewriting I might publish it as a related ficlet or something. Eventually. Don't hold your breath.
> 
> Also, in a bout of shameless self-promotion, I have recently tried to become more active on tumblr. You can find me as raja-myna, if you want.
> 
> Parts of this chapter were taken from the fifth book, or at least translated from a copy in Swedish. Now, I have some long-neglected comments to answer. Enjoy the chapter.

The start of the school year was the best part of the year, bar none, if one thought to ask Albus. Not many did nowadays, but he always insisted that people were welcome to ask him anything.

But there really wasn't anything that could compare with Hogwarts once again being filled with children, fresh from summer holidays, eager to learn and not yet bogged down with the homework they were soon to accumulate.

So dramatic, children, making such fuss about a couple of feet of parchment. They should see what Albus had to deal with on a regular basis.

The first years shuffled into the hall nervously. Albus applauded politely as the sorting song came to an end, making a mental note to tell it to keep its warning a bit shorter next year. The sorting itself was swift and after little Rose Zeller was sorted into Hufflepuff he excused his regular speech in favor of the food, which appeared as soon as he spoke of it.

Ah, house elves.

Dinner passed and Albus finished his dessert slowly, keeping an extra close eye on his new colleagues. Wilhelmina was not really new, and had jumped back into her old friendships without issue, so he trusted her to handle herself. William and Dolores needed more attention anyway.

Dolores seemed perfectly content to ignore her surroundings in favor of a small piece of parchment. She was mouthing words and sentences here and there, but not a sound escaped her. It was something Albus recognized from far to many times spent going over a lecture he already knew by heart just before a class.

So she was planning on holding a speech. How delightful, and he meant that with all the sarcasm an old soul like himself could possibly lay claim to.

On the other end of the table, William was looking slightly pale as he tried to uphold a conversation with Pomona. It was likely that the poor boy hadn't really understood what he had signed himself up for until now. Pomona was handling her part of the discussion easily though, and seemed to support William when he faltered.

Albus smiled, happy that they were getting along.

He also hoped, briefly and more than a little selfishly, that he wouldn't find a way to send William home until the next summer. He then discarded that line of thought before it could take root. He had given his word to do all he could to see William home as soon as possible, and so he would keep it. Whatever problems would arise from that could be dealt with as they came.

When the dessert finally disappeared from the table, he stood up to hold his usual start of term speech. He managed through the introductions of the new teachers and about half a sentence about the Quidditch try-outs before he was interrupted.

Dolores was not doing much to endear herself to the students. In a way, her behavior made Albus draw a small breath of relief. The less approachable she seemed to the children, the harder she would find it to spread her odious influence. And he had a feeling that now that Cornelius had made the precedent of interfering at Hogwarts she would have it all too easy as it was.

That was why he let her get away with interrupting him during the welcoming speech. She might have seen it as a way to establish dominance, but the majority of the students only saw a rude woman talking down to them. That she interrupted him just as he was talking about the Quidditch try-outs was just icing on the proverbial cake.

He did what he did best – pretended it didn't bother him. It was usually a good way to unnerve an opponent.

And unless Dolores Umbridge was dealt with swiftly, she would most likely make one hell of an opponent. She was a woman of unshakeable convictions and, admirable quality as it might sometimes be, the causes she was championing were… troubling, at best. And Dolores was not one to let anything stop her.

Albus was honestly a bit surprised that she had been content with the post as History Professor. When he'd preempted Cornelius by hiring William he had expected an attempt to pass legislation to make it invalid. Instead, they had seen fit to replace Cuthbert. Poor Cuthbert Binns, who had insisted on keeping up his lectures even if no student would attend them this year.

With any luck, though, Dolores would not last long and Cuthbert could be reinstated as Professor. Hopefully it would not take too long. Unlike this speech of Dolores'.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

It would've been a perfectly enjoyable evening and start of term if that toad had managed to keep her mouth shut.

Perhaps Hermione was being a bit unfair. She'd never met Professor Umbridge before – but maybe not. Harry had already pointed the woman out as one of the people who'd voted against him in the trial. That, combined with her status at the Ministry labeled her antagonistic, if not an outright enemy. Hermione's – and probably many other people's – opinion of the woman fell lower and lower as she continued to speak.

It was as though Umbridge had deliberately gone in for making the most dry and convoluted speech in the history of dry and convoluted speeches. When it was finally over Hermione turned back to the table. She concurred with Professor Dumbledore – it was illuminating.

“You're not telling me you enjoyed it,” protested Ron.

“I said illuminating, not enjoyable,” said Hermione. She explained to them the true meaning of Umbridge's words with a dark expression on her face. Harry and Ron both shared her grim look when she finished talking and Dumbledore dismissed the students.

The movement and noise of hundreds of adolescents getting up from their seats jolted Hermione into remembering. “Ron, we're supposed to show the first-years where to go!”

“Oh, yeah,” said Ron, and for a moment Hermione thought this was a step forward, that Ron would indeed use the opportunity to become more responsible. “Hey – hey, you lot! Midgets!”

That sound? That was Hermione's hopes crashing to the ground. Painfully.

“ _Ron!_ ”

“Well, they are, they're titchy…”

“I know, but you can't call them midgets!” She gazed out over the table. “First years! This way please!”

She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face when the children obeyed. This was her element, truly.

Harry went ahead. She nodded to acknowledge him as he passed her. Her attention was then turned to the first-years who were slowly gathering. She had memorized them as best she could when they'd been sorted.

“Everyone here?” It was more a rhetorical question than anything, but the first-years nodded and mumbled affirmations. “Good. If you'll follow me, I'll show you the way to our common room. Take care not to fall behind; I know the castle's interesting, but you'll have plenty of time to explore later and it's far too easy to get lost.”

“I'll be in the back,” said Ron, “in case the stairs change.” Hermione nodded in approval.

“Thanks Ron. It's probably best we mention that now.” She turned to the first-years. “The staircases here at Hogwarts are not always stationary. Some of them change pretty regularly, while others can spend most of the week leading one way only to lead another on Fridays and so on. There's always a way to get to where you need, but you'll want to have plenty of time to get to class. Being late because the stairs changed on you is not a good excuse. Anything else before we go that I've forgotten?”

Ron shrugged. “Most of it we'll go through in the common room, right?” Then he looked at her sharply. “Oh, yeah, the trick steps.” He turned back to the first-years. “Some steps are fake. You'll learn them pretty quickly, but older students skip them out of habit most of the time. If you see someone skipping a step, it's probably good to avoid it.”

The children looked a little overwhelmed already. Hermione smiled sympathetically. “I know it seems like a lot to take in, but trust me, you'll get the hang of it faster than you think. Now come on, let's be off.”

Leading the group up to the common room was easy. They had to pause for a while as one of the stairs shifted and a couple of the first-years panicked, but it swung back to its original position after less than five minutes. Hermione waited until the whole group was clustered around the Fat Lady's portrait before giving her the password.

“The current password is _Mimbulus Mimbletonia_ ,” said she to the first-years when they had all made their way inside. “Whenever the password changes, a notice will be posted on the board there–” she gestured at it. “– a few days in advance.”

“Tomorrow morning,” said Ron, trying to remember everything they were supposed to get said, “you should get down to breakfast early – you'll get your schedules then. Professor McGonagall will be handing them out: she's our Head of House.”

The first-years nodded along, but most of them looked knackered. Hermione had a lot of things still she wanted to take up, but none of them were vital right now. She withheld a sigh.

“I gather you're all a bit tired right now, so we'll cut this off here. If you ever have any questions though, please remember that we prefects are here to help you. Now, boys' dorms are up on the left, and girls' are on the right. Boys, follow Ron. Girls, with me. Have a good night and if you have any problems getting to breakfast tomorrow just tag along with some older students or ask the paintings or ghosts. They're always happy to help. Watch out for Peeves, though.”

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

After she left the first-year girls in their dorm Hermione went straight to her own to unpack. Parvati and Lavender were already there, sitting and gossiping on Lavender's bed. They quieted for a moment and nodded at her in greeting. She nodded back before opening her trunk and pulling out her nightdress.

She was in the middle of pulling her course books out and arranging them in her bag when she overheard a very unwelcome subject change between her roommates.

“…they've been saying about Harry?”

“I know! I never would've thought it, though. But perhaps I should have, remember what Professor Trelawney said last April?”

“Oh, but you don't think–”

“I do! It's awful, really, but Harry's lying really has gone too far! I mean, it's–”

“You shut your big, fat mouth, Lavender Brown!” Fury bubbled in Hermione's gut and she whipped around, her wand pointing unwaveringly at the other girl. She lowered her voice as she continued, “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”

Lavender paled rapidly and Parvati raised her hands and tried to move away from the blast zone.

“How _dare_ you?” said Hermione quietly. Lavender opened her mouth, but whatever she was planning to say stuck in her throat as Hermione continued. “No, I don't want to hear it. You've attended Hogwarts with Harry for four years now. Even if you haven't spent all your time with him, I would have thought you'd know him at least a little.”

Both of Hermione's roommates stared at her in fright. Hermione was scary good with magic. If she decided to hex them, there was not much they would be able to do.

The wand in Hermione's hand remained still, no twitching or swishing or twisting that would have indicated a spell, as she kept talking. “Harry is not a liar. He is not insane, or seeking attention. He tried to warn people that – that Voldemort is back.” Hermione lowered her wand and glared at Lavender. “If you don't want to heed his warning, if you want to stick your head in the sand, be my guest. Not everyone is brave enough to do the right thing, after all.”

She turned on her heel, crept into her bed and sealed the curtains shut with a flick of her wand. Parvati and Lavender stared at the closed drapes for a long time.


	8. First day of classes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get the feeling that being alternatively happy with what I've written and wanting to tear my hair out because "no, what are they doing, stupid characters can't even follow an outline," is going to become a recurring feeling. I barely manage to wrangle Umbridge on track when Trelawney comes, waving her arms like "I HAVE AN IDEA" and then Billy goes "Lesson plan? No thanks, I've got my own already". That was supposed to tie into the plot later on, you stupid little -- Ah, well, I can work with this, too.
> 
> Until next time, enjoy :)

It was a beautiful morning.

The sun was slowly creeping up over the horizon, bringing the colours on the grounds of Hogwarts to life, glittering on the lake and warming the air. A light breeze was rustling the leaves in the Forbidden Forest. Various creatures, both magical and not, were hurrying either to cover, to sleep the day away, or out of their various dwellings to seek food and other daily necessities.

Billy kind of wished that the day had not started off so idyllic. He would have preferred something more ominous, like looming thunderclouds and harsh winds, which would have fitted his mood far better.

For the love of all that was holy – and a lot of things that probably weren't – _why_ had he agreed to be a teacher? This was going to be a disaster!

He leaned his forehead against the window and immediately flinched backwards from the cold. Then he leaned back in more carefully in the hope that the chill might dampen his budding headache. His breath fogged the glass and his lips moved into a smile as he imagined drawing something on it.

“ _I want to know what time it is_ ,” muttered he and the knowledge inscribed itself in his mind. So much more convenient than a wristwatch. Breakfast would start in about ten minutes, so it was time for him to get moving.

He pushed away from the window, doodled a small smiley face on the glass and bit back a curse as he nearly tripped on the hem of his robe.

Make the robe shorter or spend the day flying? Billy sighed in self-directed exasperation as he lifted his feet off of the ground. Of course he would fly. If he had to raise the hem he would prefer to do it by hand, which he didn't have the time for before classes.

Besides, even after years of being able to, flying was still so cool.

Billy hovered just an inch above the floor, enough that he would not get the robe stuck on anything, yet not high up enough that just anyone could notice it. Though it would be fun to see people's reactions, if Albus had spoken truth about the chances of people flying on their own in this universe (with the aid of a broom, or after a spectacularly failed spell or potion, but the latter would not produce any kind of manoeuvrable flight, and would surely end with a painfully close encounter with the ground).

Finding his way down to the Great Hall was becoming easier, but he still hesitated at some turns, using a spell to navigate. Not a lot of the students had come down for breakfast yet so the hall was largely silent when he arrived. He sat down next to one of the other new teachers for the year, Professor Grubbly-Plank.

Or, well, Wilhelmina, as she introduced herself.

“You ever teach before?” asked Billy, figuring it was a safe enough topic.

“I substituted here last year, same subject. And I've been a tutor before, but that's about it.” She smiled. “I assume you're new at this, though?”

Though it was phrased as a question, it clearly wasn't. “Yeah. I'm only eighteen, and, well…” _I haven't even finished_ _h_ _igh_ _s_ _chool_.

“Just graduated, then?”

It was a close enough assumption, and he would have, had he been a wizard of this world, so, “Yeah. I… don't really know how well I'll do, though. It kind of…”

“Didn't become real until last night?” She laughed. “Don't worry. That's the trick. Don't worry and just pretend you know what you're doing, and the rest will come eventually.”

Billy thanked her and turned to his breakfast. It didn't seem all that appetising, but he was used to food being hard to choke down at times.

It took maybe fifteen minutes or so, but the Hall quickly filled up with students. It was just when the Hall seemed filled to maximum capacity that Billy finished and headed to his classroom to prepare for the day's lessons. He'd start out with a group of second years, but after that he couldn't remember what classes he would have. Lessons were prepared for all years, and he had finished setting everything in order for the day the night before, but for the life of him, Billy couldn't remember the schedule.

Looking at the parchments strewn across his desk, he couldn't make heads or tails of them. And there was not even half an hour before classes would start.

Why was he doing this again?

Oh. Right. Getting help with returning home. Sighing, Billy sat down, braced his elbow on the desk and rested his head in his hands.

_Just breathe, Kaplan_.

In the silence of his classroom he could hear the steps in the corridor quite easily. When the door slid open he smiled at the girl who peeked in.

“Come on in,” said he when she didn't move. “Take a seat. I don't bite.”

He felt awkward as he said it, but her eyes widened and she visibly bit down around a giggle. Then she did as he asked, tiptoeing to one of the tables at the front of the classroom. She sat down right in front of him, and stared down at the desk, sneaking occasional glances at him.

The other children were not far behind her, thankfully. In less than two minutes the classroom was full of students. Billy's students. This was such a bad idea.

“Welcome,” said he as he stood up and they all fell silent, “to Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

There was not one person who actually knew her who would claim Dolores Umbridge a fool. There were not many people who _did_ know her, but those who truly did always held a certain respect, bordering on wariness, for her.

She hadn't reached as high as she had on account of her connections, or her pretty face. Indeed, most her contacts had not been cultivated until after she'd already reached prominence, and her face, if she was brutally honest, had never really been all that pretty. She'd built her achievements on top of her opponents, vicious pragmatism and ruthlessness having been her primary tools.

At Hogwarts, she would have to play the game a little differently.

At first, she had been slotted to take over the Defence position, but then Dumbledore had hired the Kaplan boy and they'd been left slightly reeling. They'd been planning a way to get her that position anyway when a suggestion had come from an unexpected corner.

It was the assistant Lucius Malfoy had recently introduced to Cornelius who had come up with the idea.

_Shake it up a little_ , had the girl said. _They're used to new Defence teachers, they come and go every year. Get a position with more… permanence. Stability. Whatever. A solid foundation is better to build on, and if they're expecting you to leave before summer holidays, you're not standing on particularly stable ground._

So they had gone for a different target. A far easier one, when all things were considered. Cuthbert Binns should have retired when he died, no question. That he hadn't was to Dolores' advantage.

She wasn't sure scheduling was the same. On one hand, she had Potter in her first class. On the other hand, she had Potter in her _first_ class. The original plan had her putting Potter in detention as soon as possible, to stop him from speaking up about his morbid little delusions. The revised plan still had her shutting him up, but it would take a little longer. She should have been able to start working on him immediately, but she'd had so little time to prepare.

There were bigger setbacks in the world, though.

And really, forcing Potter into silence too early might reveal too much of her hand. She was doing good with setting up the image of an all over harmless woman. It wouldn't hurt to build it up a bit more before doing anything more drastic. She could always let Potter dig himself a bit deeper before she shut him up.

That thought firmly in mind, Dolores opened the door to let the fifth year students inside.

Potter was one of the last to enter, surrounded by his two lapdogs. They took seats in the back of the classroom, all three observing Dolores with suspicion and, she suspected, hate, at least in Potter's case. It was good, extreme feelings usually made for easily manipulated people.

Dolores had started her political career when she'd been younger than Potter was now. She knew not to underestimate children. They were to be treated no differently than adult opponents, if not harsher, so they would not get any ideas further down the line.

Some of them had too many ideas as it was. Dolores would take pleasure in reminding them of their places.

The children settled down in their seats. It took a little prompting to have them greeting her good morning in turn but she supposed that they weren't used to actual discipline in their classes. That would be one of the first things she would have to fix when Cornelius came through and made her High Inquisitor. Or Headmistress. Whichever came first.

“See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?” She smiled pleasantly as they repeated after her. “Now, since you will all be sitting your OWLs at the end of the year, we will be spending the last few weeks revising material from your earlier years.”

She tapped her wand on the blackboard. “As a consequence, the rest of our time table will be slightly sped up. There is no reason for any of you to be unable to keep up, but if your grades drop I will take measures to remedy that. Up to and including detention. So if you need help, please seek me out before that has to happen and we will all be that much happier, yes?”

On the board, the chalk that had drifted up to write out the day's lesson floated back down. The board now spelled out _The giant wars_ in pink chalk.

“We will begin with a segment on the giant wars, which occurred in the late nineteenth century. If you will prepare parchment and quills, we shall begin.”

The giant wars were an interesting piece of history, actually, even if they were not Dolores' favourite part. Some of the children even looked excited about the essay she assigned them at the end of class, which she felt could be solely attributed to her obvious success as a teacher. Binns had certainly never been able to inspire the children like she had, even when the subject matter had been as interesting as this.

She dismissed the children with a sweet, practiced smile, and actually found herself looking forward to her next class.

,.-~¤O*'*O¤~-.,

Harry left History with a wary backwards glance. Despite the teacher, it was probably the best history class he had ever had. The very thought sent a chill down his spine. He'd _liked_ the class, even though he knew who the woman was.

If he hadn't known, what would he have thought of her?

With that heavy thought he followed Ron and Hermione down to the dungeons.

Snape was turning out to be in fine form and the less said about that the better. Harry was all but fuming when they left the dungeons, and the day was barely half done. At least they had Defence waiting after Divination, not unlike a light at the end of the gruelling tunnel that would be Monday for the rest of the year.

“This day sucks,” grumbled Ron as they sat down at the edge of the Gryffindor table. He immediately reached for as much food as he could manage, piling it up on his plate.

Hermione gave him a wry look. “Might have sucked less if you had quit Divination.”

“You wish,” said Ron, before he buried himself in his lunch.

Hermione sighed. “At least Professor Umbridge is not that bad a teacher, whatever else she might be.”

Harry stabbed his lunch as though he could make Umbridge feel it. “Yeah. And how many will feel the same, and believe whatever she spews up about Voldemort?”

Ron flinched, nearly choking on his last bite of shepherd's pie. “You don't think–?” started he, but Hermione interrupted him.

“Of course she will try to convince people that Harry's – well–”

“A nutter?” offered Harry. “Bonkers? Off my rocker? Insane?”

“Well, yes.” Hermione picked at her food. “If she makes herself out to be reasonable and knowledgeable, of course people are going to believe her. They don't want to face any uncomfortable truths, anything that would make them feel unsafe. No one wants to be scared.”

“So instead they're playing ostrich, and pretending they don't have a huge, obvious target painted on themselves.”

“Not everyone is brave enough to do the right thing,” said Hermione lowly. Harry glanced at her, but she didn't say anything more, focusing instead on her eating.

Lunch was finished way too fast. Harry and Ron bid Hermione goodbye as she headed off to her class and they turned their steps toward the north tower.

Harry was really not in the mood for Trelawney's death-prediction fetish, but it was not like he could call in sick.

Actually…

“If I have to go, so do you,” said Ron, apparently having come down with a case of _inner eye_. Trelawney would be ecstatic.

Harry scowled. “I know. I don't have to like it.”

“At least this is the last year,” said Ron as they approached the trap door. “After this, bye-bye making up awful predictions, watching sludge in teacups or fog in crystal balls. Good riddance.”

“No more death omens,” mused Harry. A grin tugged at his lips. “That'll be a relief.”

“Yeah,” said Ron, just before he started climbing the ladder, “but right now, I sense an unfortunate demise courtesy of lightning strike incoming.”

“Haven't we already used that one?” said Harry, climbing up after him.

The classroom was filled with incense as usual, the cloying smell nearly suffocating the boys. Most of the class was already there. Trelawney herself had not yet made an appearance, it seemed, but just as Neville stumbled up behind Harry and Ron, she entered.

She looked awful.

Her hair was an even more frightful mess than usual, the many shawls she usually wore were missing or torn and even her glasses were askew.

“Professor!” cried Parvati from the table she and Lavender had commandeered.

“What happened?” Lavender sounded even more distraught than her friend. Trelawney smiled at them both. It was visibly forced and more than a little fragile, but she made it.

“I was water-scrying, looking in on something that… didn't take kindly to being observed, I'm afraid. But I'm fine. It was just a warning.”

A warning that had left her looking like she'd walked through a hurricane. Yeah. Harry totally believed that.

“Water-scrying?” asked Lavender.

Trelawney nodded. “It's another form of divination, a part of the NEWT curriculum. Also referred to as hydromancy.” She swallowed, momentarily looking off into the distance. “But enough about that. We mustn't delay today's lesson any longer, or we will not be able to finish on time.”

On that cheerful note, they pulled up their books and began the unenviable task of trying to remember their dreams.

Their final conclusion, at the end of the class, was that Ron would be eaten by a giant marshmallow, while Harry would accidentally take a trip through an extremely acidic rainstorm.

Yay, Divination. Such a useful subject.

Trelawney dismissed them, assigning a month's worth of dream diary as homework. The room slowly emptied, and just as Harry headed toward the ladder, he heard Parvati and Trelawney talking in hushed voices.

“I didn't know looking into the future could be dangerous.”

“Oh, my dear, who said I was looking at the _future_?”

But Harry was already going down, with Ron right behind him, and when he realised there were things to be heard, he had already passed out of earshot. Ron clearly hadn't heard them, or at least not paid attention, as he nearly crashed into Harry.

“Come on, Harry! Move!” said Ron, and Harry threw a glance at Trelawney, who was ushering Parvati and Lavender into her office, before continuing.

He'd have to ask Hermione what that could have meant.

They met up with her outside of the Defence classroom, where she obviously had been waiting for a while. The door was closed. Inside, Harry could hear the sounds of desks being cleared, books tucked away in bags and students moving toward the door.

They got out of the way as it swung open and children poured out. First years, Harry decided, as he recognised some of them from the sorting. When the classroom had emptied, Hermione led the way in and sat down her bag by the table in the front of the room.

“How are you doing?” asked she as she caught Billy's eyes. He smiled at them.

“Well enough. It's… not exactly what I had expected, but it works. Mostly.” Billy laughed a little. “I've spent the entire day trying to pretend I'm really my grade eight biology teacher. How about you? Good first day?”

“Better now,” said Ron, “when it's almost over.”

“I'm feeling so loved,” said Billy. “You can sit down, we're not doing any practical work today, I'm afraid.”

Harry was ready to complain, but just then Dean and Seamus entered, followed closely by Neville. Billy bade them to sit and after that their classmates dropped in one after another. When everyone were finally seated Billy stood up.

“Welcome,” said he. “There's still a few minutes until the bell goes, but if I'm counting right everyone's here anyway. And if we start a bit earlier, maybe we can finish a bit earlier as well. I'll just run a quick roll call, see if I can pick up a couple of names at least, then we can get started. That okay?”

It was clearly a rhetorical question, as he didn't give anyone time to answer before he started listing names. When he finished, he smiled at them.

“The Headmaster had this speech he wanted me to give you, about the importance of the exams you'll take at the end of the year, but I figure you'll be hearing enough of it without me preaching at you as well. And really, if you haven't figured out that the OWLs are kind of important yet, I don't know how much I'll be able to convince you.”

There were a few smiles and chuckles passing through the room.

“Exactly,” said Billy. “Now, since my predecessor didn't leave any notes on, well, anything, I need to find out for myself exactly where you stand, knowledge-wise. To that end, I have a small test for you.”

Groans echoed through the room. Billy grinned. “Yeah, I know, I'm a horrible person. This won't be graded, though. It's just so I know what you know, what you need to work on and such. You have an hour, and after that, we're gonna have a bit of fun.”

He poked the stack of parchment on his desk with his wand and they separated, floating off to land in front the students. Harry started looking through his bundle and breathed a small sigh of relief. From a first glance, he knew most of these questions.

“If you're ready, you can begin,” said Billy.

For once, Harry felt himself breezing through a test. _Is this what it feels like to be Hermione,_ wondered he as he penned down the second to last answer. Hermione had already put her quill down, and was looking through her answers for any mistakes. On his other side, Ron was chewing on the tip of his quill as he contemplated a question. Harry couldn't imagine that Ron had a lot of trouble either, though.

When Harry answered the last question ( _What should you do if you find yourself faced with a_ _lethifold_ _?_ ) he went back to look over his answers. Most of the questions were focused on spells, which were appropriate in certain situations, wand movements and incantations, but some questions were situational, where he had to describe his actions rather than a simple spell.

He rather liked those questions.

Harry barely managed to check half of his answers before Billy called time out and asked them to put their quills down. He then summoned their parchments with a muttered spell Harry couldn't make out.

“So,” said Billy when the tests settled on his desk, “I want you to group up, two or three to a group. This is only a small project, but it will lead into our first practical exercise, which I hope you're looking forward to.” He looked around the room. “If you don't have a group in a minute, I'm fixing it for you.”

There was an immediate shuffle around them, but Harry just looked at Ron and Hermione, returned their smiles and settled into his chair, entirely satisfied with the silent arrangement.

Billy's kind-of-threat had worked. It took less than thirty seconds for everyone to settle in a group. Billy clapped his hands to get everyone's attention back.

“Great!” said he. “Now, every group will be getting a random, hostile encounter scenario. I want you to go over it, make note of what spells you need to use, what actions you need to take to get yourselves and, possibly, any bystanders out of harm's way. You have until next Monday to finish. The catch is that you need to be capable of performing these spells and actions, because after that we're going practical.”

Hermione raised her hand. “Practical?”

“I don't want to toss you into a hostile encounter unprepared,” said Billy. “Not yet, anyway. So you get a week to prepare. Then you'll head into a simulation room I've fixed up, and play out your assigned scenario. It won't be for real,” added he, suddenly serious, “but it'll be as good a practice as anything I can give you.”

“When you say not for real…” started Hermione, but she trailed off as Billy raised his hand.

“I mean that these scenarios could have you face anything from a group of dark wizards to a werewolf to fictional villains. Some of which would be hard to get a hold of during class time, in a controlled setting. So it's a simulation, where you won't be in real danger, while still getting as close to the real thing as I can legally give you.”

Somewhat unsurprisingly, considering the amount of Gryffindors in the room, interest spiked. Harry could feel excitement bubbling up. It seemed like Monday was not a completely lost cause.

“So,” said Billy, and held out a thick stack of parchment. “Come up here and pick your poison.”

Hermione was the first to stand up and walk up to him. She took a look at the parchment on top of the pile. She picked it up and turned it over. Harry strained to see what was written on it. Then Hermione said, somewhat accusingly, “It's blank.”

“Invisibility spell,” explained Billy. “It'll be removed it once everyone has their scenario, but I didn't want anyone to pick what they liked just because they'd already covered it and felt it would be easier.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, clutched the parchment and sat back down beside Harry. The other groups started moving, sending up one of their members or going all together to get their assignment. Harry breathed in anticipation as the final group settled back down at their table and text started appearing on the parchment.

_It's a reasonably warm spring afternoon. You're wandering through a thick forest looking for a place to pitch your tent. When you put your belongings down, you find yourselves surrounded. They do not announce their intention before attacking you._

The rest of the sheet described their assailants physically, how many there were, how they were standing in relation to each other and what they were carrying (wands mainly, and in two cases, a knife as well). It also described the belongings Harry, Ron and Hermione were supposedly carrying with them (their wands, a tent, food, hygiene articles and a change of clothes each).

They would have to face down six people. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. They looked back, determined. The three of them could handle it.

“So,” said Billy. “Get brainstorming. If you want to go sit elsewhere you can do it. I'll stay here until the end of class if you have any questions, though. And I want to see you here at the start of the next lesson too, even if I let you run free afterwards. Everyone got that?”

There were scattered nods.

“Good. You're free to go.”

There were a minute of activity as people packed away their quills and ink, and started suggesting places to go to. The room slowly emptied. Hermione looked at Billy.

“You do know that none of them will come back.”

Billy smiled. “As long as they get done, I don't care. And if they don't get done, they don't get to do the practical exercise. Anything you want me to clarify for you?”

“No thanks,” said Harry, “I think we're good. But… we'll stay here? Until class is really over?”

Hermione nodded. “The library's probably going to be rather full, so we'll have more peace and quiet here.”

“I wanted to go to the common room,” complained Ron good-naturedly, “but I guess you're right. Let's get this over with.”

Behind his desk, Billy hummed as the trio got to work. Harry managed to catch a glimpse of the look on his face as Billy started going through the tests he'd issued them at the beginning of class, and had to smile. It seemed as though teachers really did hate tests as much as their students did.


End file.
